


Naked Kids

by allthepackfeels



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3b, Alcohol, Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Finally, Humor, Hurt & Comfort, Multi, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Summer, Underage Drinking, Warm Fuzzies, everyone is alive and i'm not even sorry in the slightest ok, im sorry i dont know what im doing, or at least i'd like to think so, post 3b, teenage things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthepackfeels/pseuds/allthepackfeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no better time to relax and just enjoy life than a summer with your pack. </p><p>(Additional tags and higher rating as I post more)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm With You

**Author's Note:**

> As if I could just sit back and relax over the show's hiatus. To be fair, I don't know what happened I was just like ok I'm gonna have to write a thing so here I am, here you are. Thank's for being here, you deserve everything wonderful in life. *Also know that this will be the only ~sad chapter bc it hurts to write it ok
> 
> title was taken from the Grouplove song!
> 
>  
> 
> [find me on tumblr](http://www.buyinstars.tumblr.com)

The school year had been straining to say the absolute least. What with best friends being possessed by Japanese entities, gaining much too much familiarity with the local (and haunted, yeah definitely haunted) mental hospital, the imminent threat of flat out failing Finstock’s class, and more than a few sleepless nights, you could say that yeah, the pack was definitely more than a little strained.  There had been too many close calls, bullets that were fired much too close for comfort, and other things that they didn’t ever want to talk about literally ever ever ever again.

They wanted nothing more than for the pack to be together. It was hard to shake the idea that everyone just had to be accounted for. Scott had to stop himself from unintentionally doing head counts every hour, forcing himself to remember that they were all here, all safe. But after catching Derek and Isaac both slyly conducting their own personal head counts when they thought no one was watching, he didn’t feel so bad about it. And why would he? He’d almost lost his best friend, his partner in crime, the one who stayed up until the crack of dawn when Scott had gotten home sick at summer camp, and the only one who knew he still cried when he watched Finding Nemo. Stiles had been so close to being gone forever and it shook Scott to the root of his being in a way he hadn’t even know was possible. He still worried when he caught Stiles zoning out during movie nights, nudging him out of his trance like state. Stiles always smiled gratefully at Scott, nudging him back and returning his attention to whatever they were watching.

Lydia and Allison may as well have been fused at the hip after everything that happened. Lydia had screamed to signify Allison's death after her battle with the Oni. After being rushed into Deaton's arms and then to Beacon Hills Medical Center where Melissa McCall had been more than discrete with Allison's hospital visit, healing, and rehabilitation, she'd survived, but only just. 

The pack later learned that the Nogitsune had also crept into Lydia's mind, and having realized her immense attachment to Allison, wanted desperately to render Lydia as vulnerable as possible. The Nogitsune's trickery was so deeply lodged into certain parts of their pack that it took weeks to even begin to understand it all. 

Deaton and Meredith had then begun introducing Lydia to a series of lessons in understanding and honing in on her powers, a real "banshee breakdown" as Stiles liked to it, giving a weakened smile every time. Lydia always refrained from rolling her eyes, so overwhelmingly grateful to have her friend back.

They were all grateful. Of course nothing could be fixed over night, but everything would heal in it’s time.

Stiles still had nightmares. Derek took care of those. No one mentioned it when they’d all been roused from sleep on several occasions by Stiles’ terrified gasps as he cried out in the middle of the night. No one thought twice about it when they heard Derek comforting him, placing small kisses in the boy’s hair and on his forehead, as they wrapped their arms around each other. He talked Stiles out of his midnight panic attacks, whispering things like “you’re safe now” and “it wasn’t you” into his ear as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Scott could never tell Derek how grateful he was for that. He could only do so much for Stiles. There was just this level that Derek understood Stiles on. The shared memories of vulnerability, of being controlled by something so beyond yourself.

Everyone felt helpless when it came to Stiles. Even though many of them had all been lucky enough to have evaded the Nogitsune's grasp, they felt the emotional damage every time they remembered how Stiles had looked in those final days before the defeat of the Nogitsune. He had been truly defenseless. There was no way to know if he was going to survive, if he’d be given the bite; if it would even take.

~~~

 A mild semblance of normality began to return as Christmas neared.That season was the closest they’d ever felt to one another. Each had celebrated the normal festivities with their families, but after that it was almost unspoken that everyone meet at Derek’s loft for no reason other than to cuddle. They couldn’t bare to be apart for any extended amount of time anymore. 

They were all crowded into the living room watching a Dr. Who holiday marathon, per Stiles’s request of course. Lydia sat squished comfortably between Erica and a large throw pillow. She sighed quietly as she looked around the room. Kira, Scott, and Stiles were sitting on the large couch with Derek’s legs draped across their laps. Issac sat near Allison’s feet in front of the over stuffed lazy boy and Lydia could feel the warmth practically humming off of Boyd and Erica who were curled next to her on the love seat. She was happy. Relief flooded her chest every time she reminded herself that the tragedy was over. But in her heart she still felt the pang of sadness that Jackson wasn’t there to share the comfort with her. It didn’t even have to be in a romantic way; Lydia had always been fond of Jackson’s biting wit, his ability to make her feel as if she was his only concern. She just wanted him there, with her, with _them_. But he’d promised to return from London in the summer and until then the constant texting and occasional Skype chat would have to suffice.

The familiar tone of the door buzzer brought her out of thought. The only acceptable distraction had arrived: Chinese! Everyone in the room quickly touched their index finger to their nose, grinning at Lydia, who had infamously lost “Nose Goes” once again. She rolled her eyes and huffed as she regretfully pulled herself up from what was decidedly the warmest and most comfortable spot in the universe. She scooped up the crumbled bills from the kitchen counter and padded towards the loft’s front door. Her eyes were still focused on counting out 5’s as she slid the door open, “Please tell me you brought extra sweet and sour sauce,” she began, adjusting the cash in her hand once more. 

“So we’re just getting right to it then?” the boy replied, his response draped in a filthy smirk that she could practically taste. Wait a minute, she knew that taste, had it memorized back and forth. She gasped in realization as she looked up to find Jackson standing in front of her. In the flesh, not on a small pixelated screen 8 hours ahead of her, but here. Like really really here. And with copious amounts of chow mien in hand no less. She wrapped her arms around him without a seconds hesitation, breathing him in as if he were about to vanish. But no, he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She ran a hand through his hair, it was longer and less gelled than before.

She had barely enough time to meet his eyes again before he stepped over the threshold and was swarmed by the rest of the pack. Allison planted a giant kiss on his cheek, Issac brought him in for a warm hug, only to be abruptly ripped away by Erica so she could give her greeting. Scott graciously took the carryout order from Jackson’s hand before stepping in to wrap him in a hug as well. He was pretty much passed around the entire circle, getting hug after hug from every member and a hearty clap on the back from Boyd, which was just as good as an embrace, if not better. Lydia beamed as she gave Jackson another hug. She then quickly turned to Kira, who had remained quiet through the pack reunion. She grabbed her hand, bringing her to her side. 

“Kira, this is Jackson.” she smiled, gesturing to the man beside her. Jackson smiled almost immediately, taking Kira into a warm hug.

“Nice to finally meet you, Lydia’s told me so much.” Jackson greeted her with rare sincerity. 

“Oh, I-really?” She asked, turning to Lydia who only winked before clapping her hands together to get everyone’s attention. 

“Alright pups, let’s ea-” she was immediately cut off as the pack scrambled for the take-out boxes, chop sticks and soy sauce packets flying through the air. Erica swiftly stuffed a pouch of egg rolls into her cleavage, which earned a glare from Stiles who was obviously jealous of her advantage. Boyd and Issac used their height privileges to swoop in on the orange chicken while Scott and Allison aimed low, clawing at cartons of kung pao and steamed rice. After a few friendly jabs in the ribs and some colorful language about whoever stole the wantons (it was Derek, everyone knew), the dust settled and the living room was packed again. Jackson blended right in, opting to sit on the arm rest of Allison’s lazy boy. Lydia divided her attention between her teriyaki bowl and making faces at Jackson as he slurped his noodles one by one. 

The final piece was in place and now the wounds could set properly.


	2. Don't Wanna Sleep Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't want to get sterek-centric but I caved and it's probably going to happen. I'm really excited to get into this fic though, and I thank you greatly for reading!

Summer at long last. The first night of the only time of year that honestly mattered (according to Stiles Stilinski, can verify and confirm, 10/10 this is true and it is science) was to be spent staying in and get plastered in their pj’s.  
Was yet another pack slumber party cliched and totally expected of them? Well, yeah.  
Was it gonna be fucking awesome? Hell yeah!  
  
~~~  
Upon arriving at Derek's and throwing their overnight bags onto his bed, they each took on different duties in preparation for the festivities.  
  
Allison and Lydia quickly announced that they’d be baking desserts and that no one was allowed in the kitchen. The clanging of pots and pans could be heard pouring out of the kitchen, eventually accompanied by classical music. Lydia swore up and down to Beethoven’s 8th to make the perfect batch of brownies. “To calm the mind and mobilize the soul.” she claimed.  
  
~~~  
  
Scott and Kira ended up dragging Issac to the mall because the boy didn’t have any legitimate pajamas which was "utterly preposterous and criminally insane" according to Scott, the self proclaimed comfy pajama connoisseur. "19 assorted scarves and not a single pair of pj bottoms? Dude, seriously?”  
  
“You know I sleep in boxers though…” Issac tried to convince him. He looked helplessly confused as Scott began steering him toward the front door.  
  
"Yeah, but I was under the assumption that it was for my viewing pleasure…" Scott winked before shoving his beta over the threshold and tossed the car keys over his shoulder at Kira. She caught them effortlessly, her eyes never leaving Erica’s as they thumb wrestled over who’d get the couch that night.  
  
"Well maybe we shouldn't get him any pajamas then…" she called out after them, the smirk audible in her voice as she held Erica’s thumb down in victory. She picked up her bag and dashed out the door as Erica called behind her in demand of a rematch later.  
  
~~~  
  
Erica, Boyd, and Jackson got off easy, deciding that they’d stay behind to child proof the house in preparation for the multiple intoxicated supernatural and impressively destructive beings that would soon be filling the space. Actually they weren't getting off that easy because the pack would no doubt break more than a few things if the environment wasn't prepared properly. And it wasn't just the supernatural that would cause some serious damage. Stiles, the drunken boy wonder, could literally brain himself in a padded cell if he was trashed enough.  
  
"We should just get him a helmet," Jackson suggested, only half serious as he pushed a particularly sharp edged and glass coffee table (which shouldn't even be around a sober Stiles, honestly) into the next room.  
  
"It's not a bad idea except what if he pukes in it or something?" Erica replied, focused on unscrewing the lightbulbs from the ceiling fixture in the middle of the room from her perch atop Boyd's shoulders. It seemed like an unnecessary precaution but they soon learned that it was absolutely necessary after Scott and Stiles' famous New Years' Eve leaning-tower-of-drunk-asses-with-dart-guns accident. It was all fun and games until they had short circuited the electricity and the pack had missed the ball drop at midnight.  
  
"And I sure as hell won't be cleaning that shit up." Boyd added, turning both he and Erica to glare at Jackson.  
~~~  
Derek and Stiles were on libation duty, which was Stiles's favorite duty to be on. They took the long way out of Beacon Hills and over to the liquor store in the next town. Stiles insisted on going incognito, dawning one of Boyd’s hoodies which looked absolutely ridiculous on him because he was practically swimming in it (he wasn’t a string bean but he might as well have been when it was Boyd they were talking about) and a pair of the sheriff’s old aviators to ward off any suspicions about his identity. 

_No, he's not a underage. No, he's not related to a local law enforcement officer, especially not the Sheriff. And no, he is not purchasing 6 bottles of Jack Daniel's honey whiskey. Which technically he's not. Derek'll be the one buying it._

"Do you want to wait in the car, maybe?” Derek asked as he put the Camero in park in front of the small shop. Stiles hadn't realized he'd been speaking aloud.

"Nah, man. Let's do this" Stiles assured before sliding the aviators on. He didn’t miss Derek's eye roll as he exited the car and heard it beep twice, locking behind them.

They walked through the door, setting off the motion sensor which rang twice to signal their arrival. Stiles, who liked to start off all alcohol runs on a casual note, smiled at the cashier who only barely managed to look up from her copy of Us Weekly. 

Derek grabbed the nearest cart and began wheeling it down the back section of the store, leaving Stiles by the postcards. He effortlessly picked up a 30 rack of beer which he knew wouldn’t be touched that night, but would be nice for baseball nights. He placed it in the cart as Stiles caught up to him and tried to slyly drop a bag of cheeto puffs into the basket. Derek raised an eyebrow but decided he really didn’t care enough to argue. Stiles grinned at that and turned away to pick out bottles. 

He headed straight for the Jack, picking them up two at a time and placing them in the cart. Any outsider would’ve stared in bewilderment at this, but Derek told him to grab a few more, knowing full and well that the teenage werewolves in his apartment could and would finish them all without batting an eyelash. But now, thanks to Lydia and Deaton's gracious scientific efforts, they might actually be getting drunk tonight.  


Stiles also reached for the biggest bottle of Jose Cuervo that he could see. A single round of tequila shots would be pack tradition until the day they were all buried in the ground. 

After the essentials were in, Stiles began picking out the clear liquor; the fun stuff. The ones that he and the girls would be indulging in the most. He didn’t care what anyone said, there really was something to be said about a good mixed drink. 

He pulled his glasses down the slope of his nose, eyeing the shelves and then reached for the Peach Vodka, it was Lydia's favorite. Plus it had the best aftertaste ever. 

_Hmm, maybe he should get two bottles, one for himself._

He heard Derek chuckle behind him and realized that he’d been talking out loud again.  
  
 _Ok maybe it wasn’t Lydia's favorite, but details details. So what if he was considered one of the girls sometimes. And so what if when he was particularly drunk he’d let them paint his nails; a clear coat honestly never hurt anyone, plus it kept him from incessantly biting them. Allison had even said that he’d had some of the best nail beds she’d ever seen, so HA!_

Minutes later, they were 14 bottles deep and ready to check out. Derek pulled the cart up to the counter and the cashier's eyes all but rolled out of her head as she put down her magazine to help them out. The boys unloaded drinks onto the small counter and she quirked an eyebrow which was almost all that could actually be seen of her from behind the 30 rack. 

"Will this be all?" she asked, very obviously annoyed by how much force she was going to have to exert to complete the transaction. Stiles looked around a final time to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything and gasped as he spotted his bag of cheetos still in the cart. He reached in and quickly placed them on top of the beer, obstructing the girl's line of vision even further. 

"I'll be in the car." he smiled at Derek before patting him on the shoulder and walking towards the door, setting off the motion alarm as he exited the store. He rerouted quickly, walking back in to ask for the keys but was cut off as Derek carelessly tossed them at his face."A direct hit." he bit out, turning to leave again. His confident strut was disrupted again as he darted back in, snagging the chips off the counter. He bit the bag open with his canines, winking at Derek before leaving the store for the last time, neon orange crumbs trailing behind him. 

~

They arrived back at the loft just in time to see Erica throw Jackson across the room, and into a wall that probably should've cracked under the force. But they’d brought in enough pillows and padding to make it as safe as possible and Jackson landed softly on his back, almost giggling. 

“Serious werewolf business?” Stiles snickered, holding the door open for Derek to single handedly bring in all the booze. 

“Stilinski-proofing, actually.” Jackson snapped back, running over to take the case of beer from Derek’s hands.

Derek nodded gratefully at him before turning to Stiles with a signature look, his eyebrows communicating the whole “What the hell? You could’ve helped me carry stuff in. Granted I’m a werewolf and obviously don’t need your help, but still, you’re an ass.” look in mere seconds. Stiles rolled his eyes before giving him his “What are you talking about? I definitely helped!” face, holding up his single bottle of peach vodka and bag of cheetos. His hands were full, what did Derek expect?

Derek loomed towards him as a psuedo-snarl played across his face. Stiles raised an eyebrow before skirting to Derek’s right. He set the bottle on the kitchen bar and made his way towards the delicious smell of chocolate in the kitchen.

He found Allison and Lydia, a flour dusted and giggling mess, as they pulled a tray of brownies out of the oven. Stiles promptly pulled himself onto the counter, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie on the plate next to him. Lydia smacked his hand away, her lips pursed while her other hand held firmly on her waist. 

“Don’t even think about it.” she warned holding her index finger up to Stiles’ face. 

“But I’m hungry! I’m a growing boy and I’m literally being starved out right now!” He whined, kicking his heels against the cabinet below him. She looked down at his hands and cocked an eyebrow, regarding his orange stained fingertips.

“What? Like I said, growing boy?” he shrugged, raising the bag to his lips and catching the remnants on his tongue. 

“One, Stiles.” Lydia regarded him firmly before turning up the volume on the speakers which were now blasting Passion Pit, which was probably Allison’s doing.

“One, Stiles.” he mimicked under his breath, gingerly picking up a cookie.

Lydia responded with a tight lipped smile before strategically whipping her curls into his eye and walking towards the brownies on the other counter. 

"Ow, Jesus!" He cried, dramatically clutching a palm over his eye. Allison shushed him with a peck on the cheek and slipped 4 more cookies into his hand before scooting him back out of the kitchen. 

"Ooh are the cookies ready?" Scott perked up as he reentered the loft, Issac and Kira trailing him. Each of them lugged in over stuffed bags from various stores in the Beacon Hills Mall. 

"Hmm?" Stiles innocently shoved the rest of a cookie into his mouth. He winced slightly as the chocolate burned his tongue. "What cook-mthies?" he questioned, stuffing two more into his mouth. 

"Easy, dude you know how sensitive your gag reflex is..." Scott warned as he set the bags down on the couch.

"My ga' refl'x is nom of your conthern, sco-" Stiles began to counter before he was interrupted by a fit of coughs. 

"We bust our balls to keep Stiles alive all so he can end up choking to death on a chocolate chip." Erica rolled her eyes as a Cheshire grin spread across her face. She strutted over to the bar where Derek was pulling the alcohol out of bags and helped him set them up on the counter.

"Unbelievable" Boyd agreed dryly, arms crossed as the side of his mouth curved up in a smile. Scott and Kira glanced quickly at their struggling friend before refocusing on dressing up Issac.

"Yeah ok- I'm- good I'm good, please- no one panic," Stiles threw biting sarcasm even as he gasped for air, waving a hand at no one. He made his way to the kitchen table to take a seat and recoup, cradling the remaining cookies Allison had given him.

"You need life alert, Stilinski," Jackson chuckled as he walked passed Stiles and took the remaining cookies from his hand. Stiles glared at him from behind his glassy eyes, making a face when Jackson blew him a kiss from where he was leaning on the end of the bar. 

"Thank, doll." Erica said sweetly as she grabbed the cookie Jackson was about to take a bite from and tried it for herself. She hummed in delight at the taste before feeding a piece to Boyd. 

“Alright, how’s he look?” Kira asked happily from the couch. She turned Issac to face the group. He stood there, looking rather constricted in a purple pair of fleece footsies. 

“Twirl for the audience, Issac!” Scott prompted, smiling proudly as Issac made a half hearted spin around himself, his shoulders slumped in mild embarrassment. His shame was well warranted because no one could hold in their laughter at the sight of Issac wrapped in those ridiculous zip up pajamas. 

“Should’ve gone with blue, makes your eyes really pop.” Stiles commented, wiping the tears from his eyes, half of which were a result of the cookie attack.

“We got him one in every color!” Scott grinned obliviously, holding up two more pairs, one pink, one green.

“Can we just start drinking now…please?” Issac squeaked, shifting uncomfortably. 

Stiles shot up from his seat and began pounding his chest. “TE-QUI-LA! TE-QUI-LA!” he began chanting. Jackson began drumming on the bar, chanting along with Stiles. Scott joined in too, walking towards the group and stomping his feet on the ground. Issac unzipped his footsies down to his waist and climbed over the back of the couch. Kira ran into the kitchen to get Allison and Lydia and gather the shot glasses. Opening ceremony was about to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> comments & critiques are always appreciated  
> &  
> hey  
> [tumblr!!](http://www.buyinstars.tumblr.com)


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